


Satinalia Gifts

by amarmeme



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Couples First Holiday, Cullen Smut, Cullenlingus, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Gift Giving, Satinalia, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8991679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarmeme/pseuds/amarmeme
Summary: Lotte Trevelyan celebrates her first Satinalia away from her family, but with Cullen around there’s no way she can be sad about it.





	1. Day

Lotte waited for Cullen on the battlements, shivering slightly in the winter wind. A powerful gust blew out the small ball of fire in her hands and she blinked in surprise at the empty space. A year ago she’d been in Ostwick, innocently unaware of what was to come, celebrating Satinalia with her family. The Ostwick Circle had been lenient, allowing her to travel home on occasion and especially for the holidays. By all accounts her circle was nothing like Kirkwall’s. And yet, had the terrible things not happened in the City of Chains, Lotte imagined she’d be at her parent’s home right now, trading gifts before the fire.

Snow began to fall. The Inquisitor held herself and tipped her head back to peer at the large, fluffy flakes. It was to be her first white Satinalia. 

A few moments later, Cullen appeared. “You must be frozen,” he admonished.  In his haste to reach her, the tower door was left wide open. “What were you thinking?” 

Cullen’s brow was furrowed, but it didn't reach his smile at seeing her. It was a half-hearted reprimand at best. She drifted to him lazily, boots scuffing through the light dusting of snow on stone. The commander met her more than halfway and folded an arm around her shoulders, enveloping her in his furry surcoat.

“You forget. A fire mage is never as cold as it seems outside.” Her eyes twinkled with a bit of mischief. 

“Hmm, well I’d prefer not to test that theory. Especially when the mage in question is our Inquisitor.”

Lotte wrapped her arm around Cullen’s middle. Hugging her commander was always more difficult than it ought to have been, separated by plate armor. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should really be more thoughtful about wrapping up before stepping out. It’s easy enough for the sake of not worrying you.” 

“Don't apologize on my account. I'm sorry I made you wait. Reports don’t go away even on a holiday.” 

Another gust of winter wind picked up and cut straight through them both. Lote shivered and decided she'd had enough snow gazing. Cullen squeezed her tighter, but didn't complain knowing she enjoyed watching the pretty flakes fall. She was so grateful to have someone like him in her life. 

“Let's go in then,” she smiled. “I have a gift for you and it's there anyway.”

“You've hidden something in my office? When did you get in?” 

“A certain sneaky woman may have done me a favor.” She winked and tapped the side of her nose, spinning out of his grip once they entered his tower. 

Lotte hurried to his desk and knelt down to open the lowest drawer. Cullen stood over her to watch. Given the interested “huh” he made, she was correct in her assumption that he didn’t know about the false bottom. Sera had found it weeks before on a pranking streak, and Lotte had drawn Cullen away in order for the archer to drop it in his desk. Now Lotte lifted the wood carefully, as to not jostle his other belongings, and retrieved a slim packet wrapped with crimson colored paper and tied with an elaborate bow of twine. His name was written across the front with a flourish and Cullen’s pleased little half smile at the sight of the package sent Lotte’s heart thumping. She wondered when was the last time he'd received a gift. 

“It's not much, but I hope you like it. We always exchange handmade gifts in my family, but I'll admit I had some help with this one.” 

Lotte stood up and Cullen took the gift from her hands. He shifted it carefully, as if looking for the easiest way to unwrap it without destroying the complicated design.

“Pull the twine there,” she instructed, pointing at a little trail off the bow. 

He did so and the bow unravelled easily. She took the twine away and laid it on the desk. The packet was open in his gloved hands, and by all appearances it would seem she’d given him a simple stack of blank papers. Cullen picked up the first one, a heavy sheaf of quality paper, and flipped it over. Lotte held her breath, hoping she’d been right in getting him what he was about to discover. As he looked it over, his expression was unreadable. She swallowed her nerves down. 

“I--” she started. 

“Charlotte,” he interrupted, voice thick. “How did you manage this?” He held up the portrait of his family; Mia, Branson, Rosalie and their spouses and children were all lined up smiling by a fireplace. The gathering was only missing him. And his parents, of course.

She clasped her hands in front of her. “I wrote to Mia. I hope you’re not upset I responded to her letter for you. I sent the artist with Mia’s permission.”

Cullen’s face softened, a look that melted her each time she was on the receiving end of it. “I’m not upset, it’s... well,” he struggled and paused. “It’s perfect. I’m afraid my gift isn’t as heartfelt as this.”

Lotte waved a hand, “Don’t say that. And there’s a few more things in that packet.”

He placed the portrait carefully on his desk, leaning it against a stack of books facing where he worked on reports. A little burst of pride flared in her chest as seemed to appreciate her gift. Satinalia was one of her favorite times of the year, and finding a loved one the right gift was better than receiving. 

He flipped over the next card in the stack. “You certainly kept the artist busy,” he said drly. “But I’ll give him his due. This is... you’re so beautiful.” He held up the portrait next to its likeness and she cursed her fair skin for the blush that fell across her cheeks at the attention. 

“I was tempted to commission one for myself of you, but that would have given it away. Besides, I can’t see you sitting for an artist.” Cullen scoffed a bit at the idea and Lotte grinned. “I thought maybe you missed seeing me as much as I missed seeing you.” 

“I always do,” he agreed, nodding. His attention returned to the other papers. “And are these letters?”

Lotte took the stack out of his hands and flipped through them, holding up each sealed letter at a time and reading the labels she’d drawn on each with a neat hand. “For when I can’t be here for you. Here’s one for when you’re missing me, one for when you’re annoyed. Ah, this is when you need a little, uhm, inspiration?”  _ That one _ was a message she’d never send through a raven. All in all there were half a dozen notes of love and encouragement for when Lotte was out on the road and unable to be the supportive partner he needed. “I know this isn’t the same, but I can’t help feeling a bit helpless when you’re here and I’m not most days.” 

Cullen took the stack out of her hands and dropped it on the desk. He cupped her face suddenly, and leaned over her for a kiss. Lotte was pressed back, gripping the desk with one hand, nails biting into the wood. Her other hand fell to his plate. 

After a long, breath-stealing kiss, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Now, let me give you your gift.”

She smiled and he kissed the corner of her mouth before taking her hand and pulling her back towards the door. “It’s outside?” She asked. 

“I’m afraid this wouldn’t fit in your desk drawer.” 

They sped out the door and he pulled her down the steps eagerly. The sun was beginning to set, meaning the revelers would soon be out all over Skyhold. Lotte wracked her brains trying to guess where he was taking her, but despite traveling through the elements most days, she wasn’t very much of an outdoorswoman. As he guided her towards the stables, it became much clearer. 

“Cullen, did you get me a  _ pony _ for Satinalia?”

He laughed. “I know you miss home, so when Dennett mentioned a stock of Ostwick horses on his farm in the Hinterlands I couldn’t resist.” 

The pair entered the stables. Master Dennett was in a stall, whispering to an agitated Courser, and nodded towards the hall. There were a dozen stalls in all, but the one holding her new pony was easy to find. A large red bow was on the stable door, adorned with bells and holly berries. 

“Er, I didn’t do that part,” Cullen said, hand reaching for the back of his neck. 

Inside the stall was a beautiful dun mare, her shaggy two-toned mane swept over her eyes. She was calm as Lotte approached the gate slowly. “Hey there, lovely,” Lotte said gently. The inquisitor held out her right hand on purpose. If the anchor sparked suddenly on her dominate hand, then the mare would certainly be anxious. As it was, the mare sniffed the back of Lotte’s hand and whinnied, tossing her luxurious blond and black hair out of her eyes. It reminded her so much of her own horses back home that Lotte wiped away a stray tear. 

“Oh Cullen,” Lotte gushed. “You were wrong about not giving me a heartfelt gift. She’s beautiful. Thank you.” 

She turned around and he was right there, a sly knowing smirk on his face. She threw her arms around his neck. 

“I’m glad you like her.” He pushed a strand of wavy red hair behind her ear. “What will you name her?” 

Lotte considered the question. Most of her family’s horses were titled after well-known Marchers. It didn’t seem right to bestow this gift from her Ferelden lover a name like that, especially for one of the best Satinalia presents she’d ever received. Suddenly, she knew. 

“Satina,” she smiled. “That way I’ll always be reminded of this perfect day.”

Cullen squeezed her closer. “Well, Inquisitor. If you thought this day was perfect, just wait for the night.”  Lotte gasped as her commander kissed her again, hard. He left her wanting as quickly as he’d started it, smirking as he walked away from her backwards. “I have to get back, but I’ll see you for Josephine’s feast?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said. 

With that, Cullen smiled and left her to get to know Satina properly. It was shaping up to be a lovely holiday, even without her family. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wouldn't want a pony? 
> 
> CH. 2 is Night and it will be nsfw. :D


	2. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The celebrations continue as Josephine throws Skyhold a Satinalia feast and Cullen and Lotte exchange their other gifts.

The Inquisitor never seemed to stop surprising him. Cullen smiled at the two portraits on his desk, one of his family that she so thoughtfully arranged, and one of herself. He could scarcely get work done as he kept glancing at it, her soft smile staring at him from the corner of his eye. It was a perfect gift, one that he hoped was equaled in his present for her. Charlotte had seemed pleased by the new horse, a calm, sensible mare that Dennett had assured was more than safe. Far more so than the black stallion she’d been riding off on.

A resounding bell chimed from the main hall -- Josephine’s Satinalia feast had already begun and he couldn’t help think that third bell was meant for him. Having an Antivan for their ambassador meant that the entire week would be full of festivities. Cullen had stayed hidden from the ruckus for most of the day so far, only popping out of his tower to give Charlotte her gift. At least, the first part. He had plans for the evening...

Clearing his throat and stacking the papers on his desk neatly, Cullen stood to leave. Most everything was in order, and what was still to be tackled could wait for once. He’d intended to spend the entire evening with Charlotte, knowing she’d be bound to leave soon again. A week of her presence in Skyhold, uninterrupted, was a very rare occurrence. Already changed into the outfit Josephine had arranged, he blew out the candles in his office and set out to the main hall.

Cullen could hear the great cacophony as soon as entering Solas’ atrium. On the other side of the door he understood why. Josephine had the hall outfitted for everyone at Skyhold to dine at once, long tables crammed ten across and a band playing up near the Inquisitor’s throne. The ceilings dripped with red and black decor, including glass baubles and great sweeping bows of crepe paper. Glistening lights shone like stars, a spell that a mage had surely cast above them. Everyone was dressed for the festivities -- jewel toned outfits that were as rich and whimsical as the decor. Cullen’s ensemble was somber in comparison with his charcoal breeches and burgundy waistcoat. At least he matched the table settings. He’d resisted wearing a mask. That was too frivolous and far too Orlesian. One had to draw the line somewhere.

He searched for the Inquisitor. Charlotte was bound to be present already, undoubtedly wearing a mask. After scanning the crowd, he spotted the tell-tale red locks at the end of a table near the front. He pushed through the crowd in order to see her at once, driven by the very beat of his heart. Already after a few months she was more precious to him than he could imagine possible. Cullen reached her side, narrowly missing a few sloshed ales from the joyous crowd, then touched the back of her arm. Charlotte looked at the contact, grey eyes shining bright through the silver mask on her face.

“Oh, you’re here!”  

Charlotte stood up from the bench and his mouth fell open like a great floundering fish. Snapping it shut before she could laugh at his eagerness, Cullen felt his eyebrows raise without volition. Her hair was pinned back in loose waves, a few pieces cascading from her temples. Her dress was a warm, radiant green, matching the anchor. The dress was modest from the front, clinging but showing just the delicate line of her collarbone. As she spun to show off for him however, the reverse was draped quite low, revealing most of her back. Desire rushed straight to his gut and he wanted very badly to run a hand over her spine and clasp the back of her delicate neck. He'd whisper in her ear all the things he wanted to do in that moment while she gleamed like a jewel.

“That’s, uhm, quite the dress,” he said. “I mean, you’re beautiful of course.” He shook his head dumbly and Charlotte took pity on his suddenly addled brain, kissing his cheek. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen that back bared before, but somehow, seeing her like that in front of everyone else turned his mind straight into mush.  

“I think you’ll like me out of it better judging by the look you’re giving me right now.” She whispered low, so only the two of them could hear. Charlotte was adventurous behind closed doors, but not prone to saying borderline provocative comments in company. Especially not surrounded by nearly the entire Inquisition.

“Sorry I’m late. Had a few toasts without me?” he asked.

She smiled sweetly, mischievously then pulled him to the table, Dorian moving over slightly to make room. It was tight quarters that night, but the other mage didn’t seem to mind.

“And here I hoped our ambassador would have had you dressed more appropriately for the occasion,” Dorian said. “Or less.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows suggestively, then his glass. Cullen shook his head, clinking Charlotte’s full cup against the other man’s. Dorian had forgone a mask as well, not keen on Orlesian tradition either. They recognized it in each other without a word, then toasted again for the sport of it. Satinalia was for revelry after all.

The meal went by quickly. Food was brought out by soldiers and scouts while the kitchen staff were fed first. Great plates heaping with fowl and fruits alike were shared among the table. Tureens filled with mouth-watering soups of all colors possible were served at the same time as the main course, and desserts were brought out before most had finished their plates. Moderation was never uttered on Satinalia, and Cullen was pleased they were able to celebrate with their forces in such a way. He wondered where the ambassador had secured the funds for this, though he didn’t doubt she did it with an impish smile.

At one point, Charlotte disappeared. She came back with a great gold crown, and was joined by Josephine before the throne.

“As you all know,” Charlotte said, “our fine ambassador Lady Montilyet is Antivan. Which means Satinalia will be a week long in Skyhold this year!” This announcement was met with cheers. “Tonight is just the first occasion to celebrate how far we’ve come in so short a time. I thank all of you for lending your support to the Inquisition and know that being away from your families is difficult. Especially on a holiday when family, friends and traditions are front of mind. I hope that tonight’s feast can warm your heart in this cold place, and keep that sickness for home at bay for one more day.”

The crowd clapped and whistled for her, and Charlotte bent at the knee in a little curtsy. Cullen’s heart surged with pride for her. The Inquisition respected their leader. He too was continually inspired by her poise and determination. It was a new feeling for him, or at least one that hadn't been true in so long. It still floored him that the first leader he could truly admire was also his lover.

Josephine took up the crown and announced their new leader for the week, a stable lad with wild black curls. The Inquisitor placed it on his head, and he stole a quick kiss from her cheek. Good natured cheers and ribbing from the crowd erupted, and one loud soldier shouted, “You better watch out for the commander now, lad!” The sound carried quite well in the room, and Cullen suspected the mage to his side had something to do with it. Dorian shrugged his shoulders unconvincingly.

A hundred or so eyes searched for him at once, and Cullen looked to Charlotte instead. Her cheeks were flushed pink, but she bit her lip in laughter. Somehow, someone started chanting “kiss her” and it caught on like wildfire. As their newly minted leader, the stable lad whispered a command for Charlotte and she was forced off the dais and back over to her table.

“I will never live this down,” she laughed.

“You?” Cullen smiled. “I’m fairly certain the troops will be chanting 'kiss her' every time I ask them to do something they don’t like.”

“We should make it worth it then I suppose.”

She bit her lip again and that was the end of his self control. Cullen rose up and pulled her close, wrapping one arm around her waist. He dragged her lower lip down with a thumb, and hastily kissed her sweet, open mouth. Charlotte’s hands clutched his shirt front and she gasped in delight. The crowd around them was boisterous again, but they were drowned out by the feel of her in his arms and soft lips against his.

She broke free first, but was smiling about it. “I should have asked Josephine how long was appropriate before we disappeared.”

“Charlotte, I don’t think it matters tonight.”

Her eyes gleamed knowingly, realizing of course that everyone would know what they were about whether they left immediately or in an hour. It seemed she didn’t care, winding her hand with his and pulling him towards the direction of her door. To think a year ago he had spent Satinalia alone for the most part on a boat, a disconcerted Cassandra and a seasick Varric arguing over leaving Kirkwall. He’d been relieved then, glad to be free of the Templar order, but now, this was true happiness.

The band started again as they reached her door, though the crowd’s suggestive comments could still be heard as she pushed it open. Sera in particular seemed to have an idea or two about fruit for him. As the door shut behind them, Cullen spun her against the wall to kiss her once more. He ran his hands down the sides of her dress and his little fire mage shivered under his touch.

“I thought you didn’t get cold?” he teased.

“I’m not cold, Cullen.”

Her eyes were lit with fire, and his desire to see her bare was renewed. First order was removing the silver mask. Cullen reached around and untied the knot at the back of her head. Charlotte snagged one if the ribbons, pulling it free. She held the heavy thing loosely in one hand at his elbow. It was good to see her again, without the artifice. They paused there at the threshold and studied one another. The heat between them was real, palpable. And not just because she could concoct fire with a snap of her fingertips. There was something undeniable between them, a connection that ran far deeper than any woman he'd been with before. Not that they were comparable -- Charlotte easily overtook the rest like the sun’s light surpassing that of the twin moons, breaking over the world with the dawn and bringing everything into clarity. Need surged in his veins and ran straight to his cock. Charlotte traced his jaw suddenly with delicate fingertips, then licked her lips. He shifted closer, wedging a leg between her thighs, hitching her skirts.

“I have another gift for you. In my room,” she whispered. Her chest heaved at the idea.

“Let me give you yours first?”

She was confused, but curious, assenting breathlessly. He'd not planned to give her pleasure just on the other side of the door to the main hall, but the idea of making her hold back her moans at the risk of being found out was enough to set his blood to boiling. Cullen fell to his knees and pushed up her skirts. Her eyes widened, but she didn't stop his progress as he pulled down her smallclothes. The reward for his haste was great indeed; the silky juncture between her thighs was pink and perfect and already wet from their fumbling. He groaned at the sight, pushing one leg up a step and kissing along each creamy thigh.

“Ngh, _please,”_  she moaned.

The request shot a burst of excitement to his heavy cock. Cullen spread her folds eagerly, revealing the tiny pleasure spot. Wth exaggerated slowness he bent to lavish it and Charlotte moaned in delight as his tongue hit her at last. Her fingers wound into his hair quickly, and he chuckled against her. She rocked towards his mouth in response and he groaned into her sweet, wet heat. It was really quite perfect down there between her thighs. Cullen poured his focus into her pleasure, licking, circling, teasing and kissing her soft, sensitive spots. He looked up to catch her watching him intently. As their eyes locked on one another, she unravelled a bit more, teeth pressed into her lower lip in an effort not to cry out. Smirking, he set to tug gently on the little bundle of nerves. The surprised squeal that fell out of her mouth was lewd and loud, and he had to do it again. Damn if anyone heard.

Soon she was panting, rocking into his face and quivering as she tried to stand. One of her hands left his hair and he knew she was playing with her own breast beneath the fabric of her dress, hoping to push over the edge with the added sensation. Thrusting two fingers inside her caused Charlotte to stutter breathlessly. She came quickly after that, inner walls tightening around him, his hand drenched in her excitement. He kissed her far past the ripples of her pleasure were over, and she squirmed away at his touch.

“Too sensitive,” she said, crooking a finger and inviting him back up.

“Mmm, and it was good I hope?” He felt a bit silly at even asking, but even so. It was wise to know where one stood.

“That was unexpected.” Grinning, she said, “I may never let you do anything else.”

He pressed her against the stone wall again, his desire obvious against her softness. Her lips parted as she regained her breath and Cullen took the opportunity to steal it away again, kissing her deeply yet slowly. Charlotte reached between them, stroking his arousal through fabric. Between kisses she spoke.

“Let me... give... you your... present, Cullen.”

“Lead the way, Inquisitor.” He released her and she straightened regally. The trip to her quarters was all stairs, but following Charlotte while she wore that dress had its advantages; each shift of her hips stoked the fire in his loins further. By the top, Cullen was ready to rip the dress off and forget the gift altogether. Instead, Charlotte made him wait just out of view inside her doorway.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she said after a few silent moments. Her voice wavered a bit as if filled with nerves and his curiosity was piqued.

Cullen stepped up to the landing and had to catch himself on the railing for fear of falling backwards. Charlotte knelt on the bed, wearing a sheer black night rail. It concealed much, though alluded to more. Deviously short with thin straps begging to be snapped, the lingerie was unlike anything she’d wore to bed before. Her hair was down in waves at her shoulders, and her skin shone in the firelight. He had no words to convey how perfect she looked.

“Maker’s breath,” he managed.

He joined her immediately, first pulling aside one of the tiny straps and kissing her bare shoulder. She shivered again, then set to work at loosening his shirt and waistcoat. He kicked off his boots then helped her tug at his clothes, happy as each piece hit the floor. Next came his breeches, and before long he was naked while she was still covered. Truth be told, he wasn’t keen on taking it off just yet. As with the dress before, there was something highly erotic at seeing so much of her, but not all.

Sweeping her backwards, Charlotte laughed airily with the unexpected movement. He trapped her beneath him, red hair spilling over the pillows, and shifted a hand to cup the swell of a breast. The delicate fabric had a delightful detail, making her a present indeed.

“Are these bow ties?”

“Why don’t you loosen one?” 

Cullen undid one of the knots over her breast. No longer taut, the fabric parted, providing access to a pink nipple. It was already pert and he groaned at the idea of how he could tease her this way. He dove forward, taking her in his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue over the spot. She squirmed and moaned breathy little sighs, hands travelling down his back. Without pausing to look he loosened the other bow and rolled her neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Charlotte gasped at that, thrusting her hips upward in frustration. He moved against her in response, pushing his cock against her and she grabbed his chin, forcing him up to her mouth.

“Kiss me,” she urged.

He complied, still playing with her with one hand. So far he’d realized that the key to her happiness was tied to paying plenty of attention to her breasts. She was vocal despite his deep kisses, gasping now that they were secluded in her room. Each stroke of his fingers, each press of his hips roused new sounds from her. It was more than he could reasonably bear -- he needed to be inside of her. Cullen hitched up one of her legs and entered in a deep thrust. She threw her head back and swore in delight at the sudden surprise.

The slick heat of her was intoxicating. He never wanted to leave the tight hold of her around his thickness, and each slow thrust was better than the last. Charlotte pulled down her lingerie, sliding her breasts free. They bounced enticingly as he surged into her and the sight sent another pulse of desire through him. She reached for the spot where they were joined, quick fingers doing important work as she tried to come for the second time that night. He shifted, pushing in deeper and she gasped.

Her pleasure was still paramount. Seeing her writhe and come beneath him, sweat slicked skin glowing in the firelight and breathy pleas falling from kiss-swollen lips was everything he needed to follow in release as well. He shifted a hand from the pillow to hold her neck, feeling her pulse dance beneath his palm. She turned her head to the spot, resting her chin against his grip, and closed her eyes in rapture.

“Open your eyes,” he said. Cullen wanted to see the pleasure there, needed that reassurance for some reason.

She obeyed, though her eyelids fluttered at each onslaught of sensation. “I want you to come too.” She bucked into his thrust and gasped. “Please,” she begged. “I’m com--- nnnngh!”

Her inner walls began to contract, milking him. Her ragged moans as the waves of pleasure hit her went straight to his groin, and Cullen increased his pace, hoping to chase the next crest himself. Bowing his head, he sucked on her full lower lip, tugging the spot she always worried with her teeth. Her fingers ran over his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. His climax was swift, but powerful, and he breathed out a stuttered gasp against her mouth.

He fell to his elbows, careful not to crush her, but weary from spending himself. Charlotte panted and soothed his shoulders at the same time, rubbing circles there absentmindedly.

“Happy Satinalia,” she said at last, giggling at his messed hair as he pulled back. “Oh, I’ve mussed up your curls,” she teased.

Cullen grunted, shifting to his side and pulling her in close. She rested back against him, and he molded around her warm little body. She murmured appreciatively, entwining their fingers together and resting the joined hands near her heart.

“What you said earlier...” He paused and she tilted her head to peek at him. “About being sick for home -- is that true? Do you wish you were in Ostwick?”

“I miss them but...” Charlotte shifted, turning to snuggle against him. She pushed him backwards and Cullen let himself be led, falling against the pillows. “Cullen, I love you. Today has been perfect. I only hope that one day you’ll meet them. My family.” She smiled and traced his jaw, then bent to offer a light, sweet kiss.

His heart filled at the idea, that perhaps she thought about and wanted as much as he did a life together. After the Inquisition. He twined his hand in her cascading hair, holding her softly. She kissed the inside of his arm and then sank against his side, resting her head on his chest. It was all he’d ever wanted, but it took forever to realize.

“I love you too, Charlotte. And I can’t wait to meet your family. Next year, we'll spend the holiday with them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, happy holidays!! Woot!


End file.
